Confession
by Trixfan
Summary: "Don't give up" - I always wanted to know how Mulder and Scully went from being on the run to a couple living in seclusion on a doctor's wage. Set post The Truth. Scully re-discovers her faith, fate and destiny play a role when she feels the need to attend confession.
1. Chapter 1

**AN** –_ I have major issues in my life right now. Sorry for not reviewing more of your stories and replying to those who have taken the time to review mine. I am reading and they are a life line for me. I will get back to Dreams and Time Slip when things settle down. Right now I've written this because its kinda the way I feel._

* * *

'Forgive me Father,' Scully's litany came without thought. She'd preformed this duty so many times in her thirty eight years, because her faith, her religion dictated she needed too. Now, in this instance, Dana Katherine Scully felt the need to seek out the nearest Catholic Church in this god forsaken, remote region, find its priest and speak the words her heart demanded. 'It has been a long time since my last confession.'

'My child,' came the gravely, older voice from the other side of the intricately carved screen, 'I sense you are at odds with your faith and not here to confess your sins.'

'There are some sins I cannot forgive myself,' Scully told the man sadly, 'even if god wills it.'

'Then tell me what troubles you, my child,' his voice remained steady, even with the great sadness he felt emanating from the other side of the confessional.

'I have forsaken everything I have ever known, my friends, my family, my faith for a quest. The greatest quest an individual can pursue,' the words came haltingly, Scully unsure exactly what she really wanted to say or why she felt the sudden need to reconnect with a god, a faith she'd all but give up.

Touching the cross at her throat, she closed her eyes thinking perhaps faith would be all she could expect of this life. In that moment, Ahab, Missy, William and her mother flashed across her closed lids reminding her of happier, if somewhat naive times. She mourned them all, especially her mother, who although alive had been lost to her in the need to expose the elusive Truth. The quest, once Mulder's alone, now hers as well, as she struggled to make sense of the events in her life.

'You allude to unspeakable acts, the devils work,' the priest commented evenly, suddenly understanding the aura surrounding the woman. She had lost all hope, desolate in her need to find even a glimmer of light in her dark existence.

'Yes,' the word exited as a hiss. Silent tears started their slow path down Scully's cheeks. She didn't wipe them away, realising they symbolised a ritual cleansing. 'I have gaze into the face of evil so many times, yet still it seeks me. It took away everything I have, everything I am. It is the reason I'm here today.'

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Dana gathered the courage to continue. 'For the last ten years I have spent my life opposing nameless, faceless creatures in positions of complete and absolute power. Their influence reaches into the lives of every man, woman and child on this planet. They sell and trade souls to the devil, thinking nothing of it. They care not for the darkness they leave in the lives of their victims, the effect on family or society. Tyranny, conspiracy, circles within circles, men at the highest levels of power, trading hope and humanity for their gain in the misguided belief they might survive the Armageddon they've helped plan. Their influence is above any law, outside political influence, beyond scientific endeavour and has no reproach in faith. I feel as though I can never be clean of their tainted influence. The darkness they have insidiously seeded into my life surrounds me at every turn.'

'You have travelled this path alone?' the priest asked, horrified, not by the words but the tone. He knew this young woman's experience to be true. Her voice demanded belief. Only one who's survived such horrors could speak without a shred of emotion or passion, worn down by evil itself.

'No,' Scully exhaled sharply, 'there is a man, my companion, my touchstone, my constant. We have been on this quest together.'

'He is with you still?' confusion coloured the question.

'We have only each other,' Scully murmured, 'there is no one else we can trust. Our tale so unbelievable, few would accept it. Those who have sought our destruction, who would continue to hunt us if they knew we survived, are the only link to any kind of proof and now beyond our reach.'

'Yet you have come to me,' fifty years had taught this man much. He knew they circled the real reason she'd entered his isolated parish, deliberately choosing a church far from a major population centre. 'Tell me what troubles you so, my child. Your pain and suffering emanates off you in waves.'

'I have been forced to make many choices for the sake of my quest. I do not regret any of them. I did not have to choose between the father and the son,' Scully's tears, now a constant stream, dripped onto her blouse, drying instantly in the stifling heat her body generated, 'and it devastates me. They held all the power, choosing when they took away my reasons for living.'

'You do not speak of the Holy Trinity,' he urged her to continue when the pause became elongated. 'Perhaps you speak metaphorically, of the choice between your faith in an all-encompassing conviction and the physical manifestation.'

Scully sighed. She'd kept her eyes closed, memories flooding her conscious. Yet in a way, she knew the priest had made his point. 'Yes,' she held onto the syllable, trying to find the exact words to express her emotions. 'This evil took away any chance I might have had for a normal life. Slowly they placed any hope of happiness beyond my reach. Yet somehow, into the midst of this quest, I bore a miracle child. They robbed this knowledge from his father. He has never known his son, just as I will never know my son. He has been taken from us in the hope this evil will never know him, never follow him, that his destiny might be very different from that of his parents.'

Nodding, even though the woman couldn't see him, the old, wizened priest understood. 'The father, the man you now travel with, he understands, has forgiven you for allowing your son to be protected in anonymity by others. Yet you are unable to forgive yourself.' The statement caused a soft sob and a muffled sound which resembled a yes. 'Tell me of your son.'

Seconds passed before Scully managed to string a halting sentence together. After a minute, the word flowed easily. An hour passed, in which she relived every moment of William's nine months up to and including his adoption. In all that time, he uttered soothing syllables, softly muttered sounds encouraging Scully to break down completely and express the grief she'd held in so tightly.

When she finished, spent, the old man had a decision to make. Carefully, he approached the subject, 'your son's adoption, did it take place through legal channels.'

'No,' Scully all but whispered. 'We had friends, now lost, who arranged it. If they lived I might have some recourse.'

'Never give up hope,' he relied on the standard answer but with an inflection in his voice which made Scully sit up and take note, 'never give up on a miracle. Jesus taught us, what is lost may be found. The bible urges us, when we believe all hope is lost, we must place our faith and trust in him.'

Sucking in a deep breath, wiping the tear stains from her cheek, Scully's brain focused on the meaning behind the words. She knew the priest gave her a message. 'Father,' she almost pleaded.

'The child, your son,' he phrased the question carefully, 'his conception…'

'Mary conceived her son out of wedlock,' Scully answered with as much tact.

'The blessed virgin eventually married Joseph,' he returned, not touching the comparison of miracle sons, 'in the church in spite of the persecution they would have faced in their society.'

'The context is not the same,' Scully denied but without any real conviction.

'Perhaps,' the priest hesitated, 'perhaps not. Do you believe in fate,' he enquired with a distinctly serious overtone, 'in destiny?'

'You believe I entered this church for a reason,' Scully probed, her sharp mind now filled with questions, 'that I have been drawn here?'

'God works in mysterious ways,' the priest reminded. 'Your child, how old would he be now?' the query came slowly, gently but infused with steel.

'Tomorrow is his first birthday,' the broken sobs took several minutes to subside, in which the priest waited patiently.

'A confession between a parishioner and their priest is sacrosanct,' the gravelly voice became infused with emotion for the first time, 'so I must ask you to take my next request on faith alone. This state allows for common law marriage. Bring the father here tomorrow, at the stroke of midday. He must be prepared to make vows to the mother of his child, for I will not release what maybe a miracle brought about by the hand of God to the care of an uncommitted couple in the eyes of the Catholic Church.'

Scully stated to protest, but he cut her off. 'Go now, my child, and think over our conversation. It has been witnessed by only god and us. I make no promises or pledges. I ask only that you find your faith and maybe it will find you.'


	2. Chapter 2

_**The bit I forgot** - Not mine, never mine, belong to CC, ten-thriteen and FOX mores the pity or XF3 would be in production by now. NO MONEY made and you can't get blood out of a stone, unless its an X-File in which case this coda is moot anyway._

* * *

'Mulder,' Scully demanded as she entered their room. Silhouetted against the late afternoon light cascading through the open door, hands on hips, a slight vibration ran the length of her body. She appeared like an angel, the sun's burnished rays capturing the red highlights in her hair, giving her a halo.

She'd been gone almost three hours and he'd started to worry. They no longer carried cell phones, too easy to track, or any form of identification, unless changing locations. Before the Gunmen had been lost to them, Scully organised several new identities taken from missing children cases without close or living relatives. The identities would stand up to even a rigorous FBI examination, giving them time to escape into anonymity once again. So far they hadn't needed to use any in the backwater towns they'd chosen to inhabit.

Looking up from the laptop computer John Dogget and Monica Reyes supplied, storing electronic copies of all the X-files, Mulder's senses hit high alert. 'Hey,' he greeted, a tentative smile gracing his slightly pouty lips. Realising something major had changed by Scully's body language, he moved with lightning speed, prepared to abandon their current location.

'Mulder,' Scully walked towards him, placing a hand on his arm, 'we need to stay. I've been to confession and may have found a reason to continue, for both of us. You were right to insist we stayed in the sparsely populated mountain states. It might provide our salvation.'

He didn't ask, he didn't need too, Scully's eyes conveyed her conviction. Whatever had occurred in the last few hours, whatever she'd discovered left her emotionally distraught and fatigued. Guiding her to the bed, they lay down together. Mulder's trust in her complete, he gathered Dana's frame against his. Soothing her into a restless sleep, he watched the expression on her face become softer, younger and more peaceful as her body finally slipped into a deep, serene slumber.

'Why are we here, Scully?' Mulder asked in whining tone as they approached the steepled structure the next day. He'd never been one for formal religion and wondered why she'd insisted they visit the little church together after her revelations of the day before. Realising it connected Dana's confession to her new sense of hope, he continued to follow Scully anticipating answers to the questions he'd never ask.

Dana glanced at her significant other. Shielding bright blue eyes filled with hope from the midday sun, her raised eyebrow and slight tightening of their intertwined fingers her only answer. Leading Mulder towards the small, yet surprisingly affluent church, Scully scrutinised her surroundings. The flower beds had been carefully laid out, the lawn mowed, the edging neat without a weed in the small, carefully tended yard. The other constructions on the main street in this village had seen better days. Foreclosure notices and boarded up storefronts bespoke of better times for the ailing community.

Once, neither Scully nor Mulder would have thought twice about driving the short distance. Without a vehicle, they'd been forced to walk the three miles from the run down establishment they currently called home. After escaping the explosion in the desert, they abandoned the Government Issue SUV. Twelve miles across the desert they found an interstate and a truck driver willing to give them a lift. Three rides later they reached Roswell and the start of their life on the run.

The silence between them a little more strained than normal, Scully guided Mulder inside the building. She chose the pew closest to the door, ushering her partner in before her. For the last six weeks, Mulder and Scully had been "persona non grata", watching each other's backs paramount to their continued safety. From this position, Mulder could see every entry point into the church. He continued his surveillance as Scully observed her religious rituals by signing the cross. Dropping to her knees, she took the position of supplication and began to pray.

'I pray to Almighty God,' she started barely above a whisper, capturing Mulder's attention. Swallowing hard, he knew Scully meant for him to hear every word. This, her way of revealing the secrets she'd kept overnight, 'that I didn't misunderstand Father Michael's words yesterday or misinterpret them in the hope of gaining back that which fate forced me to give up.'

'Scully,' Mulder, ever quick to understand, took in a strangled breath.

'In order to keep my son safe,' she continued, 'I felt the need to use unsanctioned methods, leaving no trail in the hope those who worked to harm him might not be able to track is whereabouts. The only source able to shed any light, lost to us. Until yesterday I had no hope of ever locating my son. I pray to god that I might regain my faith and salvage my family.'

Pulling herself weakly onto the bench, Scully reached out a hand. Lacing her fingers with Mulders, she turned to him with tears in her eyes. The expression begging forgiveness and asking if she'd made the right decision based on such limited information with no proof whatsoever.

'I want to believe that those lost to us will be returned,' Mulder stated, his eyes boring into Scully's. 'I've never known you to place your trust without a valid reason. Dare to believe Scully. What do we have to loose.'

They sat in silence, agitated at the situation yet at peace with each other. The clock on Mulder wrist counted the pasting minutes. At a quarter after twelve the door burst open once again. A short, slight woman entered carrying a toddler. Investigative training allowed the former agents to take in the scene with a single glance.

Unable to remember his son, Mulder's photographic memory compared the photo of six month old William in Scully's wallet to the child. The dim lighting made hair and eye colour impossible to tell. He appeared heavier, taller but ultimately the facial features matched those indelibly etched into Mulder's memory. Looking over to his partner, the expression on Scully's face conveyed her tightly reigned emotions with just a hint of delight.

The child squirmed in the woman's arms, demanding to be placed on the floor. His finger pointed towards the couple seated six feet from him and the distinct word "down" issued from his lips. Looking pale, sickly and exhausted Scully's medically trained eye diagnosed a terminal illness but not the cause. The woman resembled a walking cadaver. Dana hurried to her side as she stumbled, catching a rail in her effort not to drop her charge.

'Please, let me help you,' Scully insisted, grabbing the child and allowing him to slip to the floor.

Mulder, only a step behind his partner, supported the woman with an arm around her waist. Guiding her to the pew they'd recently vacated, he forced her down onto the hard wood. Sitting either side, Scully's glaze caught Mulder's. He saw the worry and her eyes flick to the infant. Hazel orbs softening, he turned his attention to the little man happily crawling up the aisle.

'Hey buddy,' Mulder smiled, directing the comment toward the child.

Unperturbed by the near miss, he crawled under the pew three row up. Avoiding all obstacles in his way, the infant babbled happily making a bee line for the adult paying him attention. Using Mulder's pant leg, he pulled himself up. Both women continued to watch the byplay, only Scully's eyes recognising the similarity between father and son.

'Thank you,' the woman looked around, searching for someone, 'are you also waiting for Father Michael?' Nodding, Scully noted the shallow breathing, the lack of fat and muscle tone as she change her hold to take the woman's pulse. Watching Dana somewhat suspiciously, she asked, 'are you a doctor?'

'Yes,' Scully answered, her most enigmatic smile covering her features. 'When did you last see your general physician?'

'I'm dying,' the woman looked Scully in the eye and asked, 'what is your speciality?'

'Forensic pathology,' she'd hesitated only a second to long.

'Ursula Van de Kemp,' the woman offered her hand, 'and I'd say I have little use for your area of expertise.' Watching the confusion enter Scully's gaze, Ursula explained, 'I have stage four breast cancer with metastatic involvement in the lungs, spine, liver and lymph nodes. My oncologist believes I should be dead.'

'I believe him,' Scully allowed her façade to drop and her smile turned melancholy.

'Only I can't die yet,' Ursula continued. Her eye's had glassed over. 'That's why I'm here to see Father Michael. I had hoped….'

'To find a home for your son?' Scully asked very cautiously.

'Your husband is very good with children,' Ursula observed, her eyes drawn to the interaction between man and child. 'My husband never had the chance to be a father to Johannes. We married young expecting a child to come when we felt the time to be right. First we needed to set our finances in order, get the farm turning a profit. We were young and idealistic, believing our entire lives were ours to mould. We started trying and nothing happened for years. By the time we exhausted medical intervention for my infertility, we realised adoption, legal adoption for a couple over forty is problematic.'

Sighing heavily, her words coming in phrases with her laboured breath, Ursula continued her story. 'So we turned to a friend who knew someone who could procure child for us. We were ecstatic.'

Eyes misting once again as she recalled the past, Ursula and Scully both realised the importance of this meeting, set up by Father Michael. 'A week after Johannes came to live with us, my husband Hans had a call from Amsterdam. His father suffered a major heart attack. We'd had terrible storms this year. The Cheyenne airport had been closed for several days so he drove to Denver. They closed the mountain pass as he drove through.'

Mulder and Scully's eyes met for the briefest moment. They lived with black ice and understood the implications.

'When I started to feel fatigued, I blamed the stress of an infant and dealing with Hans's death. I couldn't stay on the farm after he'd gone, too many memories,' Ursula smile sadly, 'not that it would have mattered. By the time they diagnosed cancer it had already spread beyond any treatment options.' Stoping, she looked, wild-eyed at the couple surrounding her, as though truly seeing the interaction between them for the first time. Blatantly staring Scully in the eye, she asked, 'do you have children, Doctor?'

'We had a child,' Scully swallowed hard, not daring to reach out a hand to her son comfortably playing in Mulder's arms. 'Circumstance took him from me three months ago. My,' hesitating over the word, Dana knew she said it only to comfort a dying woman, 'husband took a long term assignment and didn't have the opportunity to watch our son grow.'

Her sorrowful brown orbs forced their way past Scully's defences, 'your son died?'

'No,' Dana tried to find the words, 'his safety and ours had been compromised by men beyond reach and amendment. I gave him up, to protect him.'

'I've been told his birth name is William,' Ursula confessed, her attention now completely captivated by the man and child displaying such synchrony. 'He looks enough like you to be your son.'

Taking his matching hazel eyes from the child, Mulder spoke softly, 'because he is. This is our son, William.'

'Dadadadada,' the child happily cooed, forcing his father's attention back to him.

Nodding sagely, Ursula took the time to finally see the genetic similarity. 'Then God has fulfilled my prayers as perhaps I have fulfilled yours. This meeting is no accident but destiny. I have kept your son safe and my faith is restored. I've a reason for the events of the last three months and can go to my grave in the knowledge that my actions have been guided by the hand of God.'

Lurching to her feet, Ursula struggled to stand. Staggering past Scully towards the door at the rear of the church, Dana understood the woman's intentions. Ursula didn't reach the door to Father Michael's inner sanctum before she collapsed.

* * *

_**Please review and tell me what you think. I've finished the story, it only has two more chapters. Be warned serious angst ahead.**_


	3. Chapter 3

'Mulder,' Scully cried, rushing to the prone figure on the floor, 'see if you can find Father Michael.'

Without hesitation, Mulder ignored Scully and searched the dipper bag Ursula left on the pew beside him. In the front pocket he reached pay dirt. Taking the cell phone out, he quickly searched the contacts for her doctor. Dialling, he handed the device to Scully who realised his intention. She'd already conducted a cursory examination. The look on her face gave away her medical opinion and the urgent need for Father Michael.

'I'd like my bag,' she stated wistfully into the hazel orbs of her lover as the call connected, 'I feel useless without it.'

'Southside Community Medical Centre,' a young woman's voice greeted.

'I'm with Mrs Ursula Van de Kemp who has collapsed at All Souls Catholic Church,' Scully entered doctor mode. 'I need to speak with her primary physician urgently please.'

'Who may I say is calling,' the receptionist requested in a calm but determined tone.

'Dr Scully,' Dana closed her eye's hoping she'd made the correct decision. Feeling a palm on her shoulder, Mulder gave his tacit support as he knelt beside her. William still held tightly in his embrace, Scully reached out a hand to her son and gently stoked his cheek. This tiny contact would have to do for now.

A few seconds later a male voice introduced himself as Dr Stephen Jackson. A hasty discussion, consisting of Ursula's condition followed. They came to the same conclusion. Nothing further could be done for the woman.

'Dr Scully,' Stephen sounded saddened but not all together surprised, 'this is a community funded clinic. I'm the only doctor and have a waiting room full of patients who need attention. I'll be there in a few minutes but I'd appreciate whatever you could do to lessen Mrs Van de Kemps passing.'

As though called by his divine master, Father Michael chose that moment to exit the vestry. A single glance told him all he needed to know. Kneeing beside the dying woman, he started giving Ursula the last rites. With no medical equipment any attempt at chemical comfort would be futile. Scully could do little but hold the Ursula's hand. In the background, Mulder kept William entertained. She didn't want this to be a psychologically damaging moment in the infant's life. Scully knew he'd experienced too many devastating events in his first year. The guild associated with the thought squashed mercilessly beneath her medical persona.

Taking matters into his hands, Father Michael reached for Ursula's lids and closed them. Having finished his prayer, her chest rose for the final time, shuddering to a complete stop. The heart followed for a few minutes before it contracted for the final time. What little colour Ursula retained seeped from her face, leaving her pale and ghostly.

'May God have mercy on your immortal soul,' the priest made the sign of the cross. Looking up, he sighed quietly, but not quite softly enough to capture Scully and Mulder's shared glance before they turned their wordless communication on each other. It said so much with so little.

In that instant, Father Michael O'Leary knew he'd made the only correct choice. One glance at the child in the father's arms and understood this to be God's plan. This small parish had been chosen to keep this child safe for his parents. Just as Ursula and Hans inability to conceive a child naturally, lead to this moment. What he couldn't explain, the immediate and unbreakable link existing between parents and child. He seemed to know them, accept them, almost as though he'd been waiting for them.

No longer able to feel a pulse, Scully noted the time of death. Rocking back on her heals, she sent up a prayer both for Ursula and herself. It didn't take long for Dr Jackson arrive, stethoscope in hand, he seconded Scully opinion.

'Would you care to sign the death certificate, Dr Scully?' he asked formally, allowing the professional courtesy.

'I,' she stammered, once again looking to Mulder for support and direction, 'I haven't practiced general medicine in many years.'

'Pity,' Stephen smiled, carefully observing the interaction between the other parties in the room. Father Michael, a long-time supporter of his community clinic didn't seem overly worried that Ursula's child looked comfortable in the arms of a man who could be his biological father. The couple's body language bespoke anxiety. They seemed afraid to identify themselves or let go of the infant. 'I could use another doctor on staff, no questions asked, only proof of your medical degree. The pays deplorable, the clientele impoverished and the facility falling down around my ears, but I offer a service to those who can least afford it. I believe you might find it rewarding.'

'Dr Jackson,' Scully started, only to be interrupted by Mulder clearing his throat.

'Let's think the offer over, Scully,' he added softly, reaching out an arm to gain her attention, 'after we've spoken to Father Michael.'

A significant look, accompanied by an arched eyebrow her only answer. In public, Mulder still referred to his partner by her surname. Scully had become accustom to not calling Mulder anything in any situation where he might be identified. Getting to her feet, Dana pulled the two males down the aisle so they couldn't be overheard.

'Father Michael,' Scully spoke just above a whisper as Mulder handed William into his mother's arms. The beatific smile couldn't hide her delight at finally embracing her baby once again. Taking both mother and son into his clasp, Fox Mulder waited for Dana to finish, 'won't release William to us unless we're married in this church.'

Shrugging his shoulders, Mulder didn't seem overtly upset at the news. Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on the crown of her head. 'If the marriage is secular and kept quiet, I'll go along with it,' he stated easily. 'I'll do anything in my power to keep our son with us. This parish priest has kept Ursula's secret, knowing William to be covertly adopted. What makes you think he won't keep ours?' Watching carefully for any hint of opposition, they both knew their names couldn't be registered with the state on a marriage licence. 'Something he said to you yesterday, made you trust him, Scully. Has that changed?'

Shaking her head, a momentary connection said all they needed to say on the subject. 'The job offer?' Scully asked, realising how much she wanted to return to work and as normal a life as possible. 'I'll have to use my legal name on official documents. They'll know where I am the minute I start work.'

'You resigned from the FBI when my trial began,' Mulder reminded. 'While they might suspect you're with me, working in this rural location keeps us out of the way. We no longer have resources or contacts to search out the truth. I'm going to have to stay hidden and care for our son. While we have William with us, we can't run, Scully. I'd risk anything but you and our son.'

'I know,' the muffled reply sounded desolate, 'I've put our son through so much pain and misery. Now I have him back, I don't think I can ever let him go again.'

Mirroring the sentiment, Mulder tightened his embrace. 'Then let's choose this place to stand our ground. We'll find an isolated house where I can care for William. You'll retrain as the doctor you were destined to be and I'll live in quiet obscurity as Dr Scully reclusive husband.'

'You,' Scully lifted her head, a wistful smile gracing her lips, 'live in quiet obscurity? Who are you trying to kid?'

'And I thought you'd object to calling me Mr Scully!' Mulder teased lightly, attempting to belay the gravity of the decision they'd undertaken.

Father Michael approached. Watching the family bond, he heard Scully begin to sing to her child. The child seemed to remember the odd tune about a bullfrog and wine. Wrapt hazel eye's upturned to his mother's face, William reached out for a strand of red hair. Sighing loudly, he nestled into the crook of Scully neck, humming.

'Dr Jackson organised the undertakers before returning to his clinic,' the priest offered. Holding out a card, he continued, 'this is a small community. We mind our own business. Strangers are often treated with a distant respect. However if you become a member, it is a close knit, spiritually minded town. We look out for our own and value any professional willing to make this place their home. We all understood Ursula Van de Kemp took her cousin's child into her home under trying circumstances. I'm glad you have returned for your son and can offer assistance to our small community.'

The doors to the church once again opened. Two well-dressed men entered their portage and demeanour denoting their profession. Handing Mulder a card, Father Michael hurried to help the undertakers. Looking down he noted the address of the Medical Clinic. Turning the card over, Stephen had scribbled a short message.

We once shared mutual friends, Dr Scully. You gave, I took, safety the only intention. Father will provide you with temporary accommodation. Start Monday 8am.

'God,' Father Michael broke into their quiet reserve, 'works in mysterious ways.'

'How's that,' Mulder questioned.

'This town needs another doctor,' he stated, 'Stephen is on call 24/7 and you need somewhere unobtrusive to bring up your son. I'd say fate and destiny have brought us together. Now, shall we unite the parents of this child in God eyes?'

'No paperwork,' Mulder asked, surprised.

'The almighty knows bureaucracy and the living sprit may not share an accord,' Father Michael smiled, 'nor is it always right. We seek a secular understanding between the parents of this miracle child, bringing them to unity in the eyes of our Lord. While you may not believe, Dr Scully has enough faith for all of you.' Forcing the younger man to meet his gaze, the priest stated, 'lives have been lost in the protection of your son, Mr Mulder, do not let them be in waste.'

'The lord giveth and the lord taketh away,' he quoted sarcastically.

'Faith,' Father Michael reminded, 'can work miracles. Now shall we start the ceremony?'


	4. Chapter 4

'Do you, Fox William Mulder, take Dana Katherine Scully to be your wife?' Father Michael deliberately used the most archaic version of the catholic wedding vows, leaving out all legal contexts. He liked the satire, given the gravity of the situation. _God_, he considered silently, _didn't stop the clergy from having a dark sense of humour nor a man like Mulder appreciating it_. 'To have and to hold,' he continued without missing a beat, 'from this day forward, in sickness and health so long as you both shall live.'

'I do,' Mulder couldn't help the ironic smile curling the corners of his mouth. He'd never imagined being an active participant in marriage, let alone inside a catholic church, during his forty odd years. There had been that undercover assignment, two in fact, when he'd been forced to wear a wedding ring. However, in his wildest dreams, Mulder never considered himself husband and father material.

Watching Scully, shock cursed through her blue orbs. She'd long ago given up any hope of mother hood. Until their miracle, their son's inexplicable conception, even then, Dana didn't believe until she held the tiny boy in her arms. With the history between them, a soul deep connection without actually talking about their deepest feelings, neither considered a legal and binding agreement enough to define their bond.

After Scully took her turn, Father Michael concluded with, 'what God has joined, let no man separate. Go in peace and safety my children.'

'No ring, Mrs…' Mulder stopped as Scully gave him The Look. It forced a heartfelt chuckle from deep in his soul. Leaning down, William still in his mother's arms, Mulder kissed his lover soundly on the lips. His eye's made promises. They'd talk about this later and act on it after that.

'If you'll follow me,' Father Michael indicated the church vestry, 'I'll take you to temporary accommodation after I've completed the secular paperwork.' Stopping in his tracts for the briefest period, the elderly priest smiled. Whoever placed that haunted look in the eyes of this couple would have to dig into the parish records to find any trace of them, which he considered unlikely in the extreme. 'Ursula used the cottage attached to the rectory after Hans passed and she became too frail to care for her son alone. Our community embraced her in her hour of need. All of Jo…your son's possessions are stored there.'

'Thank you,' Scully murmured, closing the door of their tiny two bedroom space behind the priest half an hour later. Surveying their new home, it resembled any of the shabby motels they used in the last weeks. Small and functional, if somewhat cleaner and better equipped for self-catering, it came nowhere near Scully's self-imposed expectation for her child's environment.

The small cottage had once served as the rectory for the parish when the church employed a priest full time. Father Michael, they understood, only attended All Souls two days a week so Scully had been fortunate to find him in attendance. 'I'll go back to the hotel, collect our belongings and check out,' she told Mulder, setting William cautiously down with reluctance.

'No,' he stated, already hating this depressing, airless box. His eye's followed his son, crawling over to a small box of toys in the corner. 'If we're going to make this town our home, I can't remain completely unknown. There are going to be times I need to take William out because you're working. It's better if everyone knows I'm your significant other and begins to trust us as a family.'

Nodding in agreement, Scully looked around the dingy space. 'We need to start looking for a home, Mulder,' what her tone didn't convey, her expression did.

She didn't need to say more. Mulder's gaze signalled his understanding and a desperate need for safety at the moment, considering this new development. For whatever reason, be it the hand of fate or destiny, they'd been drawn to this little town, to Father Michael and his church. The stars and planets had aligned allowing the universe to conspire, making all the elements meet, the circumstance co-inside, much like many of their investigations. Mulder almost felt in the middle of a new X-file, staring himself, Scully and their son. No matter how hard they looked, there would never be an adequate explanation for why this occurred.

'When we first came together,' Mulder remembered a night, so long ago, sitting on his worn, comfortable couch in his D.C apartment, 'we started to considered fate. Destiny uniting us in a single moment in time, regardless of the decisions or paths we'd previously taken in our lives.'

'All roads leading to the same destination,' Scully queried. 'You think this is another of those times,' a slight smile curved the corners of her lips as she remembered the same moment.

'You fell asleep on me, before we could discuss it,' Mulder returned. His eye's promising they'd recreate that night together once they'd settled William into his crib. Forcing his gaze from Scully's, he closed his lids. 'We have enough cash to keep us for at least a year if we live a quiet country life. A car wouldn't go astray either,' he suggested, 'but it'll have to be in your name, as will any lease. Your wage will have to cover everything else. Drawing from the accounts in the first year could prove dangerous.'

'Looks like you're going to be Mr Scully, house father of one,' she finally found something to tease him about, 'whether you like it or not.'

'Anything beats Mulder,' he returned, completely serious, 'if it keeps us all safe.' Pausing to let his emotions infuse down the bond they shared, Mulder added, 'I'll pick up a paper so we can research the local real-estate and vehicle market. Maybe you can call Stephen. I bet he has insider knowledge of what's for lease or sale in the local vicinity.'

Raising an auburn eyebrow, Scully watched Mulder prepare to leave their new accommodation. _I guarantee Dr Jackson is acquainted with more than he takes credit for_, Scully silently acknowledged, fingering the business card.

Turning it over onto the flat of her palm, Dana re-read Stephen's message. Considering the implications, Scully's mind worked furiously to link the clues. The good doctor had known them the instant he'd seen them, it had been obvious from the shrewd sweep of his eyes. Somehow, somewhere, Dr Stephen Jackson became acquainted with the Gunmen, taking up their challenge to protect William.

_Why_, the question haunted Scully, _why'd he agreed to hide their son_. Hearing the door close for the second time in as many minutes, she finally picked up the phone and dialled the number. Anxiety assaulted the usually unflappable, professional woman. Glancing over the tiny kitchen counter, she watched her son happily playing with a brightly coloured toy he chosen from the box. _Would we be wiser taking William and disappearing_, Scully questioned, before coming to the conclusion, _Stephen's keep our secret so far._

'Hello,' Stephen's voice echoed down the line breaking into her private revelry. The simple act of being present while the child of her heart played contentedly in her presence infused Scully with a love and warmth she'd never considered possible again. Dr Dana Scully's heart felt like singing.

'Thank you,' the word came out softly, like a caress. Scully managed to hold the tears of joy at bay. She didn't elude to the reason why. She didn't need to because Dr Jackson knew. He'd kept her child safe, away from the darkness and she'd never be able to thank him enough.

'You're welcome,' Stephen replied lightly.

'We've decided to take up your offer,' Scully informed in a more professional tone.

'I'm glad,' Stephen sounded relieved, 'I've needed another practice doctor for some time. Our mutual friends spoke highly of your skill and professionalism. I'll be happy to have any one on board who's as dedicated to their patients as I've been lead to believe you are.'

'Oh,' Scully managed to utter, re-evaluating everything that had occurred in the last twenty four hours.

'Your family will need a car and more permanent housing,' Stephen continued without a break, as though he could sense her apprehension through the phone line. 'Come by the clinic this evening, about seven and I'll show you around. We'll talk more then. I have some options you might like to consider.'

'Thank you,' Scully replied, replacing the receiver in the cradle. Sitting down in the middle of the living room, she felt stunned by the sudden changes in her life. William looked up, smiled brightly displaying several new teeth, moved to sit between her outstretched legs and returned his attention to the musical board in front of him. He'd taken the change in carer remarkably well, as if he knew his parents would return for him.

Mulder found them both asleep in the middle of the faded rug an hour later. Carefully depositing the two back packs, large duffle and laptop on the worn sofa, he joined his family on the floor. It didn't take him long to join his wife, how strange that sounded and son in slumber.

Stepping out the door a quarter of an hour before seven, Mulder took his time to become acquainted with the stroller. Bathed, dressed in a light blue one piece suit, the infant slept contentedly in his pram. In control of the expensive buggy, Scully linked her arm with his. They looked like a family out for an evening stroll. Both knew nothing could be further from the truth.

Watching their surroundings with an investigative focus, they began the two mile walk to the community clinic on the edge of town. They chose a route taking them past three homes for rent. Checking out the community, Scully and Mulder mostly walked in companionable silence. The occasional glance all the communication they required to dismiss any of the possible houses.

'Hello,' a tall, blond woman greeted at the door of the clinic moments after their first knock, 'we've been expecting you.' Ushering the family through the waiting room and into the only consulting suit the decrepit building held, she indicated the pot, 'please help yourselves,' she invited before seating herself beside Stephen.

_Langley's sister_, Mulder asked down their unique bond, only to get a silent but positive response from Scully.

'My wife,' Stephen introduced, 'Spherion is both my practice nurse and receptionist.'

Glancing at Mulder, he gave his new wife the floor. Choosing her words carefully, Scully took the woman's hand, shaking it firmly she said, 'I'm sorry for your loss.' Looking the Spherion in the eye, Dana saw her statement hit a nerve.

'Thank you,' Spherion face displayed how deeply she still felt at Ringo's death, 'like many twins, I knew the moment is occurred. We'd always been close, even if we lived in different parts of the country and followed different life paths. When my brother contacted me a few months back and asked if I could help him with a problem, I immediately agreed. I knew how much this meant to him'

Before Mulder or Scully could respond, Stephen picked up a folder. Handing it to Dana he indicated she should open it. 'A run down on the practice. I understand you've been out of general medicine for some time, so I'll act as your mentor. I've had a standard contract of service drawn up, stating your salary and conditions. You'll need to sign it before commencing work on Monday morning. In the very back is a lease for a new vehicle in the clinic's name but the payments will be deducted from your salary. We also have a house on Mountain Rd, which will be considered part of your salary. The farm land surrounding the old farmstead is under contract to Mr Beresford, your next door neighbour. The five acres surrounding the house are wooded, giving you privacy and limited access to the property. I do warn you, the house is in need of some work. It hasn't been occupied in…' Stephen stoped and looked at his wife in askance.

'Just over five years,' Spherion supplied easily, 'since my brother and his conspiracy theorist friends asked us to aid a friend. Two years before that, we helped a young man who needed to reinvent himself. I believe you knew him as the thinker.'

'The dat tape,' Mulder muttered, his eyes searching out Scully's.

'I hope you make us an exception to your ethos of trusting no one, Mr Mulder,' Stephen stated, 'because the gunmen trusted us enough to know exactly who you are and what you've done to expose the conspiracy. There are others following your work, all be it less spectactuly.'


	5. Chapter 5

'William,' Mulder called.

Tomorrow their son would turn three. Scully had planned a small party with Stephen, his wife, their three children as well as Father Michael. The little boy should be awake from his midday sleep by now. Calling again, Mulder became worried when he still didn't get a response.

_We've become lax in our security_, he realised when his weapon remained locked in the safe beneath his and Scully's bed at the other end of the house. Running towards the little bedroom housing their son, Mulder pushed open the door with trepidation in his heart. He expected to see a replicant leaning over the child's bed. What he saw drove fear into his heart.

Scooping his son into his arms, he rushed out the door. Placing William on the back seat, Mulder jumped into the driver's seat. Gunning the engine before buckling himself in, he fishtailed down the gravel drive. Cursing the lack of a cell phone, he just hoped he'd be in time.

'Scully,' Mulder screamed, carrying the limp child in his arms.

Spherion appeared immediately, taking him through to the treatment room. She disappeared. Mulder knew she'd gone to find both doctors.

'Just hang in there little man, Mommy will be here soon and fix you up, just like she'd fixed me up over the years,' he pleaded with his son, tears streaming down his face.

Over the last few weeks, he noticed small changes in William. An intermittent limp he denied, or a flash of pain crossing his little face, devoid of explanation and the occasional stumble over a word. Not enough to arouse suspicion in Scully, not enough to seek further medical advice. Yet Mulder knew his son, cared for him every day and intuitively knew something to be wrong.

'What happened?' Scully demanded as she rushed into the small room.

'I went in to wake Will from his sleep and he wouldn't respond,' Mulder looked stricken.

After checking his pupils, pulse, blood pressure and glucose, Stephen couldn't find a reason for William's continued moribund state. 'But he is responding,' Mulder indicated his son's eyelids. A very faint tremor, as though the child attempted to open his eyes but couldn't.

'Let's get him prepped to go,' Stephen ordered.

Two hours later, Mulder and Scully sat in a waiting room of Denver Children's Hospital while William underwent a CT, then on to an MRI to investigate a neurological cause for his current condition. He'd regained some motor control and co-ordination, but had been left with slurred speech and the inability to walk. The paediatric doctors hoped for a complete recovery in time, using the working opinion of vacant seizures. However the worried parents just wanted answers in the form of a diagnosis.

'Mr and Mrs Scully,' an older gentleman approached them quietly.

'Dr Scully,' Dana stepped forward somewhat aggressively.

'I'm David Winterbourne, the head of Paediatrics' here. We'd like to transfer William to a major teaching hospital in New York or D.C.,' he stated in a soft voice. The look on his face the same one Scully wore when delivering bad news to a patient.

'What do you thinks wrong with my son,' she demanded.

'Have you ever heard of Sandoff's disease, Dr Scully?' David asked.

'Oh God,' Scully moaned, falling into the seat she'd just vacated. Her eye's communicated her horror to Mulder. 'It's a progressive neurological disease without a cure. The best we could hope for, to slow the progression of the disease with treatment.'

'Usually, I'd agree with you Dr Scully,' David tried to deliver the blow swiftly, 'but your son's brain appears to be unique on CT. His blood chemistry is unusual to say the least. Given how fast this episode has progressed, I'd like someone with experience in the area to treat your son. I believe it might be his only chance.'

Mulder stayed, packed up their home, said their goodbyes in the understanding they'd never return to his peaceful haven. Whatever William needed, wherever he needed to be, they'd be by his side. Father Michael contacted a priest he'd attended seminary with. Father Ybarra agreed to take on Dr Scully under the very trying circumstances.

Two years living on a rural property, it didn't take Mulder long to find a house halfway between Richmond and D.C. Close enough to travel to William's hospital bed each day and easy enough for Scully once she started work at Our Lady of Sorrows. The later came sooner than either Mulder or Scully expected. One month after his third birthday, William slipped into a coma. His mother, father and grandmother continued their bedside vigil for twelve days before he slid away in the middle of the night.

Fired with determination to find a cure for the disease, Scully threw herself into Paediatric Neurology. She became an attending in short order. Several years later she came across a case of Sandoffs' in a seven year old boy by the name of Christian Fearon.

In her dilemma, she lay away one night, Mulder slumbering beside her. Sensing her restlessness, he woke.

'Why bring a kid into the world just to make him suffer?' she asked sadly, 'I don't know, Mulder, I've got such a connection to this boy.'

'How old is he?' he asked with a furrowed brow.

Turning to look at her husband in name only, Scully asked the thought at the forefront of her mind, 'you think it because of William?'

'I think our son left us both with an emptiness that can't be filled,' he suggested, saddened she should have to go through this a second time. William's death still haunted both of them. Rarely did they ever talk about the devastation it caused. 'Just go to sleep. Let me curse God for a while,' he offered in consolation.

* * *

I always wondered about these lines of dialog. I felt William to be dead and needed an explanation as to why Scully would become a paediatric Neurologist. Sorry but I wanted a clarification and had to write this story around the scene.


End file.
